


Under the table

by pants2match



Series: ticking boxes [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Gen, Morning After, past-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:06:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1499465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pants2match/pseuds/pants2match
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 day drabble challenge: haze</p><p>Seeing David Rossi slapdash and heedless is something she hopes to hell she’ll remember in the morning because, shit, he’s entertaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the table

They’re drunk.

Buzzed, lit, wasted, smashed, hammered, plastered, _drunk_.

He’s slouched down the booth and she thinks if he had a couple more drinks in him he’d literally be under the table (and then there’s a whole new line of thought that comes along with that. Now is _really_ not the time because she’s been known to to make incredible sexual decisions inebriated and there’s a story she _knows_ he’d die if she told him).

How she got him to drink beer, she’ll never know, but she’s so glad she did because he’s a sloppy drunk on hops and yeast and seeing _David Rossi_ slapdash and heedless is something she hopes to hell she’ll remember in the morning because, shit, he’s entertaining.

He’s in love with the way her lips curve around the syllables and his pulse races when her tongue sneaks out to wet her lips, arid from the alcohol and too many words and breaths passing over them. She’s loud when she’s drunk and embraces it, speaking in not-so-hushed whispers and listening to him laugh like a fool when she goes from whisper to shout between words.

They end up closing out the bar.

He’s got his arm slung over her shoulders and her’s is fastened around his waist and they’re all but holding each other up. Someone neither of them can remember pours them into a cab and she’s on top of him half the ride. She hums against his shoulder, asks if he’s taking her to the _Rossi Mansion_ to get her in his bed, he tells her if she plays her cards right she’ll be treated to a night of unbridled passion she’ll never forget. She challenges him, tells him he’ll have to beat the night she spent with a girl back in the 90’s that made her come in her jeans after they’d polished off the better part of a bottle of Stoli.

She’d say there’s _some_ lost time, but in reality it’s a good three hours. 

She wakes up first, disoriented until she hears Dave’s snoring above her and it turns out they ended up on the floor, propped against his couch with a bottle of Chivas between them and she thanks every deity she can think of she’s never been one for hangovers because this one would be a bitch and a half. She passes back out before she can check the time, and when she comes to again it’s to the scent of sausage and eggs and tomatoes and good _Christ_ she could get used to this; getting legless with Dave and waking up to a breakfast that smells like James.

She pads into the decadent kitchen, curious eyes passing over the utensils and spices.

“You’ve got good timing, Alex, I just took the mushrooms off,”

“Mushrooms, Dave?”

“I’ve had three wives, I know how to please a lady”

He dishes out two enormous plates of _breakfast_ , honest to God breakfast, and they move onto the terrace.

“You know, I think Erin used to drink Stoli,”

Her only response is an interested _hm_ as she shovels a forkful of scrambled egg into her mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Getting each other drunker and drunker by the minute.


End file.
